The Mistletoe Misdirection
by Otie1983
Summary: Dec. 2011 CSI Forever Online Fan Fic Challenge entry. The insanity that ensues during the lab's annual Secret Santa program. Rated M for language and humour. Thanks to Dawn for the title idea... I was pulling blanks!
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note**: This is an entry for the CSI Forever Online (dot wetpaint dot com) December Challenge. Finally they got rid of the highly evil word limit... so I get to ramble like I like! The prompts were to include a Secret Santa (with either Sara getting Grissom's name, or vice versa), mistletoe in some way, and some character saying "Ho ho ho". Many thanks to Charlibubble for being my awesomesauce Beta! I also highly recommend buying the albums, or at least the tracks, referenced! Anywho... go join CSIFO if you haven't already!

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but my mistakes, and I'm not sharing them! Nope... you can't take my mistakes, they're MINE!

* * *

><p>Chapter 1: Don't Talk To Strangers<p>

_She was a bottle blonde, she had her sevens on_

_When I think about it now, just a cougar on the prowl_

_She was hotter than hell, had me under her spell_

_Got the ass doing yoga, didn't care that she's older_

Hedley, "Don't Talk To Strangers"

* * *

><p>-1-<p>

"So we're up to 35 people in the Secret Santa pool this year, not bad, huh?" Greg leaned over the light table in the layout room as he spoke, casually smiling at Sara.

"Wow, Greg, that is pretty impressive. Up five from last year, right?" Sara replied as she scrawled a few notes about the evidence she was looking at before turning her full attention to Greg.

"Yeah, Catherine's really pleased with how my recruiting folks has gone. Actually, we were wondering if you'd be wanting in?"

"What? No, I don't..." Sara began before Greg turned pleading eyes to her. "Greg, I'm not the Secret Santa type, I wouldn't even know what to get most of the people who are involved!" Sara watched as Greg's shoulders slumped and he dropped his head. "Oh come on, Greg, what if I pull Hodges' name? Isn't that reason enough to scare anyone out of participating?"

"But you _could_ pull my name," Greg looked up at her briefly, a glimmer in his eye, "would that really be _so_ awful? Besides, if you pull Hodges' name, just get him some moist wipes to get the brown off his nose!"

"Greg!" Sara laughed as she took off her gloves and bagged them. "Oh my God, Greg, that was horrible!"

"Yeah, maybe, but with how much he kisses ass, if Grissom stops suddenly, he's going to end up with Hodges' impaling him!" Cracking a smile, Greg watched as Sara struggled to hold in her laughter. "Seriously though, _please_ join the pool! I've got like the _perfect_ gift idea for you!"

Sighing Sara watched as Greg bounced eagerly waiting for her answer. Truthfully it wasn't Hodges she was afraid of drawing, it was Grissom that she didn't know what she could get him that wouldn't further confuse things between them. _But this will be my fourth Christmas in Vegas, and he's never participated before, why would this year be any different?_ Breathing in deeply to reassure herself that her line of thinking was correct, Sara nodded at Greg.

"Yes?" His smile began to grow waiting for her confirmation.

"Yes, Greg. I'll join."

"Alright!" Greg twirled in place fist-pumping the air in celebration. "If you pull my name out, I want two concert tickets to any rock show – one for you and one for me, okay?"

* * *

><p>-2-<p>

The days between when Greg recruited Sara to the night shift's Secret Santa pool and the drawing passed as normal. Older cases were filed after either being solved or running cold, and newer cases were investigated. Catherine had decided that they would do the name drawing at the end of the week, in order to allow as many people to join in as possible while still giving more than enough time for shopping for the gift. The final count ended up being 37 people involved in the pool, which beat out the day and swing shifts Secret Santa pools.

At the end of shift on the last day, Greg had everyone involved in the pool paged to meet Catherine in the break room. In the center of the table stood a large cardboard box with a hole cut into it. While Catherine dumped the remaining pieces of paper into the box, Sara looked around at the rest of the crowd that had gathered. As her gaze turned to the door, she actually felt the colour drain from her face. Standing at the door, trying to avoid listening to Hodges yammer on, was Grissom. Dropping her eyes to her feet, Sara took a shaky breath. She knew she shouldn't let herself get worked up at this point, knowing his position of supervisor it would make sense for him to, well, supervise the name draw. It didn't necessarily mean he was participating. Glancing up, she caught him watching her with a look on his face that could only be described as introspective. Huffing and shooting him a quick glare, Sara moved out of his line of sight and waited for the name draw to begin.

"Alright, are we ready for this everyone?" Catherine paused long enough for mild applause and whistles of agreement. "Great! Alright, so here's how we're going to do this," she looked at Greg to continue.

"Right, so we'll call you up alphabetically to grab your paper. You get who you get – and no telling! That just isn't cool. So, um, first up is, um..." glancing at the clipboard in Catherine's hands for a reminder he continued "Arch – you're up first!"

Figuring she had a while to go, Sara took a seat on the couch which offered her a view of Grissom without him being able to see her in return. As the next person was called up, Sara found herself rethinking the events following the lab explosion the previous spring. It was similar to picking at a scab, she knew she really shouldn't keep doing it, but it was just so damned attractive to her focus of attention. There had been many nights where she'd imagined different ways the conversation could have gone, different things she should have said at the time. Things to make her less vulnerable, things that would have left him sitting and picking at the details instead of her. It never made her feel any better either; it just further compounded the sense and pain of rejection he had left her with.

A sudden whoop startled Sara from her thoughts, jumping slightly from the shock, she looked at the source of the sound – Greg.

"Hell yeah! I'd been _hoping_ for someone else, but I _so_ totally know what I'm doing for this person's gift! Oh yeah, it's going to be ah-maze-ing!" Kissing the paper with flourish, Greg smiled and pocketed his Secret Santa name.

"Um, right Greg, so _anyways_, let's move on to who's next, shall we?" Laughing while grabbing the clipboard from him, Catherine scanned down the list to call the next name "Gil, you're up. Greg, he should have come _before_ you..."

"But no one calls him anything but Grissom, so that's what I put him under..." Greg mock stage whispered to Catherine.

"Yeah, but you still put Hodges under David." She smirked at Greg as she spoke.

As Sara watched Grissom walk up to draw his name she felt a sudden flush take over her body as the speed of her heart beat picked up. Droplets of sweat broke out along her hairline and she had to close her eyes to keep the room from appearing to spin. This wasn't supposed to happen, he wasn't supposed to participate. What if she got his name? _What if he gets mine?_ Her mouth went dry as she tried to calm her racing pulse. As she opened her eyes again she saw Grissom had returned to his post at the door of the break room, and that his gaze was once again on her. Concern and confusion were etched deep into his eyes as he pursed his lips and tilted his head towards her. Dropping her eyes to her hands, Sara made a conscious effort to ignore his stare and focus on the rest of the name drawing.

Some of the crowd was leaving after they drew the name of who was to be their Secret Santa recipient, and that left a space on the couch next to Sara available. Tensing as Grissom walked over and took a seat beside her, she cringed inwardly. _This is just going from bad to worse!_ Letting out a slow breath she listened for her own name to be called so she could make her escape. She could feel him leaning over to whisper something to her, and from his earlier expression Sara had a feeling it was to do with her sanity, when Greg called out her name.

"Ready to pull out my name, Sara?" Greg batted his brown eyes at her as he motioned to the box.

"I can only _hope_, Greg..." she muttered, reaching into the box and feeling for a paper. Grasping one, she closed her eyes and silently prayed it would be any name but _his_. Not wanting to look at it with everyone watching her, just in case, she smiled and pocketed the paper before taking her leave.

Climbing into her car, she debated with herself whether she should check the name then, or when she got home. Feeling her stomach flop at the idea of waiting even longer to find out, she grabbed the paper from her pant pocket. A deep breath later, and she felt confident enough to unfold the paper to reveal who she needed to shop for.

_Gil Grissom_.

"Oh, shit..."

* * *

><p>-3-<p>

"So," Greg drew the word out as he looked Sara up and down in the locker room at the start of their next shift, "who'd you get?"

"I thought _you_ said we're not to tell who we get?" Smirking at Greg's scowl she couldn't help but laugh. "I didn't get you, if that's what you were wondering."

"Really? You're not just saying you didn't to throw me off the scent?"

"No, Greg!" Laughing harder, she closed her locker door and leaned a shoulder against it. "I take it you also didn't get me, judging by your reaction when you pulled the name, huh?"

"Sadly, no. No satin Santa panties for you," flicking his eyes to hers he broke out in a grin "not that I was planning on that, per say..."

"Lovely, Greg, just lovely..." suppressing a shudder as Greg's eyes glazed over, she continued, "So who's getting the panties?"

"Oh, they would have been _Sara's Satin Santa Panties_, it doesn't work now! No, I've got," raising a finger in pause, Greg quickly checked behind the next bank of lockers before being satisfied they were the only two present, "I've got Catherine. I'm thinking a sexy little number..."

"Greg! Oh my God," Sara covered her face as she laughed.

"What? I'm thinking some nice cut jeans that'll show off her ass..."

"It's supposed to be a Christmas present for _her_, not your dirty little fantasies of her stripping in your bedroom!"

"Hey, now! We _all_ know Catherine likes looking _good_. So what if it'll give me a little bedtime dream about that sweet... Or! Maybe she'll _really_ like it, if I get a whole sexy outfit going on for her, maybe she'll try it on and dance for me..." Greg smiled dreamily.

"Yeah, she'll want to dance _all_ over your body for getting her an outfit. She doesn't shake it for money anymore, y'know Greg." Sara grumbled while shaking her head at the younger man.

"A guy can dream, can't he?"

"Might want to save your dreaming for when you're at home, alone. Don't want you getting yourself too excited and embarrassing yourself..." she said, smirking and gesturing.

"Huh?" Greg blinked, looked down at himself, and then looked back at Sara with a scowl. "Ha, ha, ha. Funny. This," pausing while gesturing to himself, "is how I hang naturally. So now that you know, I am available for a date on New Year's."

"_Right!_" Sara spoke, rolling her eyes in Greg's direction.

"Seriously," Greg put his Discman and headphones into his locker and turned back to Sara. "All joking aside, I'm going to be throwing a Zombie-A-Thon on New Year's. All the best zombie movies, just bring snacks or drinks! What do you say?"

Shaking her head before leaving the locker room, Sara sighed. "Greg, it's your fault I'm involved in this Secret Santa stupidity. I am _not_ going to spend New Year's with you wanting to eat my brains!" Turning quickly, Sara began walking towards the break room for assignments, not waiting for a response from Greg.

"But _Sara_, your brains are _so_ tasty! You _know_ you want to come to see all the zombie movies!" Greg called out after her, determined to get her to change her mind. As he watched her turn the corner he pulled a face, her comments about the Secret Santa pool only just sinking in. That was when he felt a hand touch his shoulder while his name was called softly. Jumping a foot in the air he turned to see Grissom standing just inside the door of the locker room.

"I don't think commenting on the taste of Sara's brains will change her mind." Grissom began as he slipped out past Greg. "Oh, and unless you want Catherine dancing on your _dead_ body, I'd recommend thinking up a different gift idea there, Greggo."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: Ack... challenges leading up to Christmas time are NOT easy to get done... I had this one done up a while ago, but have been too busy to really get much done on the NEXT chapter. Now that all my shopping/baking/cleaning is done, I should be able to finish it. Again - HUGE thanks to my awesomesauce beta Charli. And if you haven't joined CSIFO by now, what on Earth are you WAITING for? Move your tushie, now before you go any further, go sign up!

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing... the dogs say they get everything, even my mistakes. So any errors, address them to Chaim and Cerby. ::grins::

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><p>Chapter 2: Don't Trust Me<p>

_She wants to touch me (Woo-ooh)  
><em>_She wants to love me (Woo-ooh)  
><em>_She'll never leave me (Woo-ooh, woo-ooh, ooh, ohh)  
><em>_Don't trust a ho,  
><em>_Never trust a ho,  
><em>_Won't trust a ho,  
><em>_('Cause a ho) Won't trust me  
><em>3-Oh!-3,"Don't Trust Me"

* * *

><p>-1-<p>

Staring at the clock for what seemed like hours was slowly starting to frustrate Sara. She had been absolutely certain that she was both physically and mentally exhausted when she had climbed into her bed earlier that morning, and she _had_ slept. Briefly. A strange dream about zombie hordes claiming the city had caused her to wake after only an hour. Since then, she had struggled to fall back to sleep. Instead, she found herself contemplating ways to torment Greg, since the night before he'd been going on incessantly about the zombie movie night at his place on New Year's. Now, it was only an hour before her alarm was set to go off, and she had no hope that sleep would return.

Getting up from the bed and stretching, relishing the crackles and pops her back and joints made as they began limbering up, Sara stole a quick glance at something else that had been plaguing her ability to sleep lately. A simple torn scrap of paper with a name on it shouldn't illicit anxiety or irritation. Logically she knew that, but logic went out the window every time she looked at that scrap of paper with Grissom's name on it.

The paper itself seemed to laugh at the concept of logic.

Logically, the Grissom she'd come to know over the last few years working with him would never have submitted his name to a Secret Santa program for their shift. She knew he hadn't the last few years, that's why she decided to participate this year. For some unknown reason, he'd decided to join in this year, and that seemed to just further push the illogical for Sara.

Logically she knew that there was no reason for her to really care about what she got him, he'd made his feelings for her clear the previous spring. So, she could just grab him a box of chocolates and be done with it. No thought, no caring. Yet, she found she couldn't bring herself to settle with that. As far as she knew, it might be the only thing he'd get for Christmas. Knowing how much that could hurt inside, to think that no one could even care enough to put a little thought into a gift, she knew she couldn't risk giving him something less than great.

Lastly, logic also would have dictated that seeing as there were thirty seven people in their shift's Secret Santa, she only had a one-in-36 probability of getting Grissom's name. Grabbing the paper she stared at it for a moment. _Hell, I should have just claimed it was my own name and put it back!_ At the time, she'd been so shocked to find his name on her paper, she'd just blinked and nodded. But what was done was done, and what wasn't done, she couldn't change. So she dropped the offending paper back down on her dresser and turned towards her bathroom. If she timed herself right, she'd have a whole extra hour to try and find a gift that would be acceptable.

_Not that he's actually going to care what I get him; I'm over-thinking this like I always over-talk. I really do need help..._

* * *

><p>-2-<p>

Walking into the lab with her bag containing the heavy gift slung uncomfortably over her shoulder, Sara stopped briefly to check for any messages with Judy. From where she was standing, she could see Nick and Warrick being sweet-talked by a group of scantily clad Mrs. Clauses. Noting that an officer she knew to be part of the vice division was taking down information from one of the Mrs. Clauses, it wasn't much of a stretch for Sara to reach the conclusion that the group were likely all prostitutes trying to be festive for their clientele.

"Ho, ho, ho, indeed…" she snorted softly.

Judy looked up from her desk at Sara with a confused expression, "Ho?"

Smiling and shaking her head, Sara motioned towards the barely covered group of ladies. "Um, ho… hoe… really bad joke."

"Maybe, but also funny!" Judy grinned as she watched Nick and Warrick try and escape the women. "They're looking like they could use a rescue."

"Yeah, but what's the fun in that? I've got to go dump my stuff, keep an eye out so you can fill me in on all the juicy details about our little elves and Santa's hoes!" Tapping her knuckles on Judy's desk in a goodbye, Sara turned off to head to the locker room.

It was almost too much for her to hold in her laughter when she heard Nick yelp something about "Those aren't jingle bells!" as she rounded the corner leaving the main entrance.

* * *

><p>-3-<p>

Preparing herself a cup of coffee in the break room, Sara listened as Catherine described the difficulty she was having in getting Lindsey into the Christmas spirit this year. That Lindsey was getting more and more distant and angry as they approached the one year mark of the loss of her father. Not sure how to respond without divulging her own past, Sara quietly listened. She certainly knew how Lindsey was feeling, and that if she didn't choose an outlet to focus her energy, the anger at what happened would only get worse.

"Does she still dance?" Sara questioned.

"Lindsey? Yeah, I've been thinking of getting her more involved in dance if possible. It seems like it's one of the few things she actually still enjoys anymore." Said Catherine with a sigh.

"That's a good idea. Spend her time doing something positive, she won't have the energy at the end of the day to let the anger grow."

"Maybe." Shrugging an end to the topic, Catherine got up to refresh her coffee.

The quiet between the two women didn't last long as Greg, Nick and Warrick walked in. Nick had his head hung low and was struggling not to laugh while he blushed up to his hairline as the other two men razzed him about the Mrs. Clause prostitutes trying to pick him up.

"So," Warrick began "I hope you liked your Secret Santa gift, Nicky!"

"What?" Nick chuffed out in a laugh.

"Yeah, Warrick and I chipped in to buy you your very own Mrs. Clause for the night!" Greg ducked out of the way as Nick leveled a mock glare at him.

"Hey, now, that one was grabbing my business and singing _Jingle Bells_ to me! I don't think I'm ever going to be able to hear that song again without it causing nightmares!" Nick shuddered.

"Ho, ho, ho, Nick?" Sara smirked.

"Oh no, not you too! You weren't even there!" Groaned Nick as he flopped onto the couch.

"I was at the main desk with Judy. That one Mrs. Clause really took to you, huh?" she laughed.

"You don't know the _half_ of it Sara!" Greg's entire face broke out into a grin. "That one's from Nashville area, so you know she'd like our resident Texan! Oh man, she made a comment about how a local Nashville band has a song that describes what she should do with regards to Nick…"

"Which is?" Sara glanced between Greg's excited expression and Nick's flush going a bit into the purplish red realm.

"She said, and I quote, 'I'm going to save a horse and ride a cowboy, just like the song says, 'cos this here Texan is hung just like one!'" Greg collapsed in laughter onto the couch next to Nick.

"Thanks, Greg." Nick groaned while covering his face.

"Wow, Nick, and was this the same Mrs. Clause who was playing with your jingle balls?" Catherine joined in the teasing.

"Oh, okay, I see how it is. Yes, Catherine, she was the one playing with my jingle balls. Or trying to in any case." Nick grumbled as his flush continued to grow darker.

"Why is Nick purple?" Grissom stood at the door with a single eyebrow cocked and assignment slips in his hand. For a moment everyone was silent looking at Grissom, but only for a moment. They soon looked back at Nick who really had gone a deep purple shade, and they all burst out laughing again.

"Long story, Griss, what have you got for us?" Warrick managed to gain his composure first.

"Mostly B and E's, people trying to get last minute cash for Christmas. Cath, Warrick and if Nick returns to a normal colour before shift is over, you three can make your way through those. I do have a 405 with suspicious circs. So Sara, you're with me." Pausing, Grissom noticed Sara had paled markedly. "And, uh, Greg, it's Christmas Eve, so Merry Christmas; you can come with Sara and me tonight, if you'd like the field experience." Grissom's gaze moved between Sara's suddenly relieved expression and Greg's excited smile.

"_If_ I'd like? Hell yes I'd like to come!" Greg jumped off the couch and went running towards the locker room to grab a vest and kit.

"Well, now that that's settled. I guess we should all make a point to meet back here with thirty minutes left in shift for the gift exchange?" Grissom asked.

"Sounds good to me, boss." Nick mumbled as he stood to leave, his flush only just beginning to dissipate.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**: Seriously, you ever notice how during "holidays" you're busier than ever? Partly back to my regular schedule, which is why I've managed to get this chapter done and betaed by the wonderful Charli. One more chapter, and I'm aiming to have that out to Charli before the end of today.  
>Many, <strong>MANY<strong> huge thanks to all those who have reviewed. I will get a message out to each of you, but I just wanted to send out a thank you now. Also thanks to the folks who have put this on their alert list!

**Disclaimer**: My **_spoon_** is too big. Wait... what? I don't even own a SPOON? Damn it. I am a banana!  
>Bonus Internet points if you know where that insanity comes from... ::snorts::<p>

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><p>Chapter 3: Shake Tramp<p>

_Try a little more  
><em>_A little more, a little more  
><em>_They slap you like a bitch  
><em>_And you take it like a whore  
><em>Mariana's Trench, "Shake Tramp"

-1-

The trip over to the scene had been strange, Greg rambled from topic to topic, covering his excitement about getting to go out to a scene to his New Year's Eve movie party. He even spent much time talking about his special holiday belt buckle. Sara had made the mistake of glancing over to see what was so special about his buckle, only to groan when she saw that the buckle read "_Kiss Me_" and had a sprig of mistletoe jutting out from the center. Greg waggled his eyebrows at her and laughed as she shook her head and groaned again.

"Well," Grissom's eyes met Greg's in the rear view mirror as he pulled up to their location, "it could be worse, how many people are going to end up _under_ Greg's mistletoe when it's that low?"

Sara laughed and turned to look fully at Greg sitting in the backseat with a pout on "That is true, I mean, we all know Judy is short, but even she isn't likely to end up under it. Good luck with that Greg!"

"You guys never know! Something could come up and somehow even you could end up under my mistletoe, Sara!" Greg's huffed.

"Something would come up alright," Sara snorted. Moving to unbuckle her seatbelt, she caught Grissom's wide-eyed stare and flushed. _Well_, she thought to herself, _that's one way to make him think I'm done with pandering to him; flirt with someone he __**knows**__ is interested in me. Let's see how he enjoys that as payback for his rejection!_ But as she watched him flick his gaze down and chew his lower lip she felt her sudden anger start to dwindle. _How does he manage to always do that to me?_

-2-

"Seems the kids like coming here, abandoned house, makes for great parties with no supervision, y'know?" Nodding to the cop standing watch, the three CSI's followed Brass in through the main entrance as he explained the circumstances for their call. "Well, they weren't expecting to find one helluva Christmas ornament hanging from the attic's open door."

"So why suspicious circs?" Greg asked as Sara and Grissom surveyed the scene.

"Most suicide by hanging involves either partial suspension," Grissom paused and looked to Greg to gauge whether he needed to explain the term further, but Sara elaborated for him.

"Where they're kneeling or otherwise still touching the ground, but just adjusted their body so the ligature would still cut off blood flow and air supply."

Nodding his thanks Grissom continued, "Or a short-drop, such as a chair or other object they could stand on and kick out. This is more the set-up of a standard or long-drop hanging; standard being a drop of four to six feet and long being determined through the person's height and weight. Because you typically expect to see partial or short-drops for suicides, this is more suggestive of being homicide than suicide. However, until we get the body and evidence back and analyzed, it could go either way. It's not impossible for someone to use a standard or long-drop method as suicide, just improbable."

Greg nodded slowly, taking note of the lack of any footstool or chair that could have been used for this to have been a short-drop. "Okay, I think I get it. So, uh, what should I do?"

"You and Sara head up to the attic and look around, collect what you find. I'm going to search around this floor, and maybe see if I can find any evidence of who our John Doe might be and how long he's been hanging around for." Grissom grinned at his pun and set off to work.

"Want to, uh, hold the ladder for me while I go up Sara?" Greg winked at her and put a gloved hand on the attic ladder.

"Nice try, Greg, but I'm so not standing under you. I'm going up first!"

"Damn, well, I had to try!" He smiled and moved aside to let Sara up first, slyly admiring the view when he heard Grissom clear his throat. "Uh, just holding the ladder to make sure she gets up safely!" Greg sputtered under Grissom's glare.

-3-

Sara reached into her kit for another bindle and cursed lightly to herself. Between her and Greg, the supplies she'd restocked the night before had quickly emptied. "Greg, I'm going to bring my collections downstairs to Grissom and steal some stuff from his kit since you've used up like half my stock. Do you want me to take yours downstairs too?" Standing a few feet behind him, Sara watched as he paused and thought.

"No…" Greg drawled out. "I'm, um, trying to get a, uh, lift here. I'll bring them down myself in a few minutes. Leave yours, since I'm stealing your supplies, the least I can do is be a gentleman and carry yours down for you when I head down."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, consider it your Christmas present!" Briefly turning his head he flashed her a quick grin.

"Aw, thanks Greg, that's exactly what I've wanted all my life! A gofer!" She laughed and began her descent down the ladder. Reaching the bottom and turning around she collided with a firm mass that was standing right behind her.

"Something funny upstairs?" Grissom quirked an eyebrow and stared at her.

"Just something funny that Greg said," Sara shook off the shock of Grissom's sudden appearance in her personal space and his less than amused expression. Walking over to his kit as he mumbled something about Greg needing to focus on working instead of telling jokes, she casually asked "Would you mind if I steal some of your supplies?"

"Mind, no. But why didn't you stock your kit?" He was in her personal space again, watching as she bent down to grab what she needed.

"I had, Greg doesn't have a kit of his own yet, so we've both been using mine. I'm out of a few things as a result." Turning her head she had to bite her cheek to keep from letting out a surprised gasp as she realized that from her position on her knees, she was close enough to him to wager a good guess that he was going commando. Instead she brought her eyes to meet his, staring him down.

"Uh," taken aback by Sara's stare, Grissom couldn't think of a response. He could barely remember to breathe.

A slight tremble began in his hand, and Sara, breaking her stare briefly caught it. _His defenses are down! Subtlety, Sara, subtlety broke them down and it'll keep them down. Should I just smile at him, let him know I can see what's in his eyes right now? Lick my lips, tease him a little instead? Or, was it him thinking I was flirting with Greg that did this, play a little hard to get?_ Before Sara could make up her mind, a loud crash sounded from above them.

"SHIT! A little help here, guys!" Greg's shouted.

Turning around they saw the attic had collapsed and Greg hung awkwardly to a rafter that stuck out from the remaining ceiling above where their vic had been only a few hours before. Glancing at each other, Grissom helped yank Sara to her feet and the two charged over to where Greg's legs were wildly flailing around.

"Greg," Grissom began and then dodged to the side as a foot nearly clocked him in the face. "GREG! We're here… stop flailing so we can get ahold of you!" Roughly grabbing onto one of Greg's rapidly moving legs, he wrapped himself around the leg tightly.

Seeing that Grissom had secured Greg's right leg, Sara quickly managed to catch and hold his left leg. Patting his outer thigh, Sara tried to speak calmly even though her heart was racing "Relax Greg, we've both got you. Okay?" She glanced up and met Greg's suddenly not so worried eyes. "Greg?" She questioned, shooting a glance at Grissom, who had also noticed the slight smirk on the younger man's face.

"I told you something might come up…" Greg began and chucked, still not letting go of the beam of wood that had saved him from the initial fall.

"What are you talking about, Greg?" Grissom snapped as he readjusted his grip, trying to encourage Greg to let go of the rafter.

"You guys said my mistletoe belt buckle was pointless, since no one would end up under it. Well, this isn't _exactly_ my ideal or dream scenario, you're both under my mistletoe!"

"WHAT?" Sara and Grissom both growled together glaring at Greg.

"You're both under my mistletoe belt. Now, this is half dream come true, half nightmare. Dream 'cause Sara kissing my 'under the mistletoe' is just _WOW_. Nightmare, because, no offence Grissom, but you kissing me _anywhere_ is a frightening thought." Greg smiled down at the two below him.

"No way, Greg!" Sara groaned as Grissom paled.

"Well, the only other option is you two kiss, since you're both under the mistletoe. But really, that option makes Greg a sad boy." Mock pouting, Greg shifted as he continued. "I'm not letting go up here until you guys decide which option you're going to take down there!"

"How about a third option, we just _leave_ you up there?" Grissom ground out between clenched teeth. A sharp pain in his foot caused Grissom to look to Sara and see her glare. "Fine… we won't leave him up there…"

Sara glanced back up at Greg to see the wide smile on his face, what surprised her though was the wink he gave her. _Wait, does Greg have some kind of ulterior motive, I mean, one that is for my benefit and not his? Does he know how I feel about Grissom? Is he trying to set this up so that Grissom and I kiss? Oh God, he __**has**__ to know Grissom won't want to kiss his crotch, that he'd take the lesser of the two evils and kiss me. Oh my God… Grissom is going to kiss me. Sure, it's just because of the mistletoe and to get Greg to let go of that damn rafter, but still. He… is… going… to… kiss… me!_ Looking at Grissom she nodded that she was ready, as a warm feeling engulfed her entire body.

Sighing heavily, Grissom closed his eyes and shook his head. "I still think we should just leave you up there Greg…" he muttered and then leaned forward, placing a quick kiss on Greg's fly before pulling back with a grimace.

Sara was frozen silent from the absolute shock of it for about ten second. Only ten seconds. "_**REALLY?**_"

* * *

><p><strong>Authors POST Note<strong>: Heh... well on THAT note... next chapter shall be interesting... ::grins:: Don't kill me... I have puppies to care for! = D


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note**: And now for some angst followed by cloud and rainbow vomit - I mean - fluff. A very, very light serving of fluff. Don't want anyone going into diabetic shock or anything. Again, **_huge_** props to Charli for being so totally amazing at beta'ing this! And for helping me decide which lyrics to use, especially for this chapter. All in all - Charli is sauce that is made with awesomes, with extra awesome thrown in to kick it up a notch.  
>This chapter is longer than previous ones... what can I say, I liked writing the angst ::evil grin::<p>

**Disclaimer**: Ownership is silly... so I don't bother owning anything.

* * *

><p>Chapter Four: Skeletons<p>

_From the bottom of our hearts to the top of our lungs  
><em>_What we say is what we mean and we ain't tied at the tongue  
><em>_We play with guns 'cause we're not  
><em>_Afraid to shoot out mouths off  
><em>These Kids Wear Crowns, "Skeletons"

-1-

Sara slammed the SUV's door shut and stormed off upon return the lab, leaving Grissom and Greg sitting side by side in the front of the vehicle's cab staring after her. Grissom winced, knowing that his attempt at, well, what exactly he'd been attempting to do by kissing Greg's fly he wasn't sure.

_Deflection, maybe?_

He worried at his lip while trying to figure out where to go from there. Greg meanwhile shifted uncomfortably, rubbing his sore hip. When the initial shock wore off, Sara had let go of his one leg, at precisely the same time Greg had tried squirming out of Grissom's grip. His proclamations of being alright in spite of the throb radiating from his behind were the only words spoken since Sara's single response to Grissom's choice of option. As the two men saw Sara's angry form disappear into the lab a collective sigh filled the vehicle's cab.

"Grissom, um…" Greg began, not entirely sure where he was going.

"Greg, look, can we not talk about this? You gave us two options in order to try and get you down safely, I…" Grissom stumbled over his thoughts before shaking his head and resuming, "You just should have come down when we both had you!"

"Seriously? What is _wrong_ with you Grissom?"

"Greg..." he warned.

"No, really. What the fuck? You have a choice between kissing Greg Version 2.0 and Sara, and you choose my package?" Greg shifted to face his boss. "I mean, do you think everyone you work with is _that_ craptacular at their job that they'd miss the fact you like her and she likes you? Perfect opportunity to kiss her and give you something to think on when you, y'know..." Greg gestured slightly to the older man.

"GREG!"

"What?" Greg dared Grissom to object. "Y'know, you used to make me nervous. Now," Greg shrugged and shifted to get out of the SUV. Stopping briefly before closing the door, Greg leaned in and looked Grissom directly in the eyes. "I've liked Sara as long as she's been here in Vegas. Unlike you, I've never tried to make a secret out of it. For some strange, or stupid reason, it's always been you she's wanted. I'm tired of seeing her look sadder every single day because of you. I just want her to be happy again, even if it's not me that makes her happy. Can you say the same?" He straightened up and went to close the door when he heard Grissom speak softly.

"I didn't want my first time kissing her being because we _had_ to. I didn't," Grissom sighed "I didn't know if I did kiss her, if I'd have been able to stop. At a scene, with an audience, a forced situation, it wasn't how I wanted it to be."

"Why are you telling _me_ this Grissom?"

"I…"

"If you want to fix it, tell _her_!" With that Greg slammed the door and took off at a jog towards the building.

* * *

><p>-2-<p>

Thoughts swam in Sara's head as she sat on the bench staring into her open locker at the neatly wrapped gift laying on the lower shelf. Her anger continued to grow, but she couldn't decide how to vent it. _Throw it out and say forget it, he doesn't even deserve a secret Santa gift? Give it to him with my resignation attached in a card? Beat him repeatedly over the head with it? _She wasn't sure what she was angrier about, the hurt that he would rather kiss Greg's crotch than her or the embarrassment that he was so obviously repulsed at the idea of kissing her he couldn't even do a quick peck on her cheek. She was certain of one thing, after this, she was done. _Really, how much more would be sane to take?_

A noise at the door alerted her to the presence of someone standing cautiously at the locker room door. Dropping her head, Sara wanted badly to not have to deal with anyone right now, but whoever was standing there was obviously waiting for her acknowledgement. Which meant it was either Greg or Grissom. _Wonderful, just the folks I want to spend __**more**__ time with after tonight_. Taking a not so calming breath, Sara ground out "What?"

"Are you, um, are you okay?" Greg spoke at barely above a whisper.

"I'm fine."

"But…"

"You're the one who fell on your ass, Greg. Shouldn't Grissom be filling out injury on the job sheets with you right now?" She stood quickly and glared at the young man standing at the door who was looking at her helplessly.

"Sara, I thought for sure he'd pick the other choice!"

"I don't care, Greg. Honestly, it doesn't much make a difference. Pretty much par for the course, really," closing her locker door she leaned against it.

Greg took the few steps to close the distance between them and sucked in a deep breath. He knew he was going to end up getting the full brunt of Sara's fury for what he was about to say, but if she listened to the end point, she could be potentially happy again. _Always assuming my lecture worked on Grissom_.

Grabbing hold of Sara's hands and maneuvering himself until he was right in her line of sight and forcing making sure she knew he'd follow if she turned away he spoke. "Look, Sara, I was in a dangerous position that I could have got _really_ hurt in. I gave those options to Grissom figuring there was no _way_ he'd choose to kiss my junk, because even though I could have got hurt, I wanted to do _something_ to make you happy!"

"Happy? What the _hell_ do you know about what would make me-"

"I know _enough_!" Greg interrupted.

"Bullshit!"

"Right, it's so totally bullshit. I don't know what I'm talking about, I'm totally wrong in saying you're in love with Grissom, right?"

"Fuck you, Greg!" Sara turned, making the quick decision to punch her locker repeatedly instead of Greg.

"Stop it, Sara!" He grabbed for her, and before he could react Sara had him with his arm behind his back and pinned against the bank of lockers. "Ow, c'mon, I give, I give!" Greg yelped and struggled for a moment. "Fine, you win, I don't know what would make you happy. I guess you wouldn't care that Grissom told me he didn't kiss you only because he didn't want your first kiss together to be like that!"

"_GREG!_" Grissom's voice broke through the ruckus. Immediately Sara released Greg, shocked by his statement and Grissom's sudden proximity.

The three of them stood silently staring at each other, each unsure how to begin, or where to. Moments passed by and none made a move to speak or move. It was only when Catherine poked her head in and asked if the three of them would be joining everyone in the break room for the gift exchange that the moment broke. The tension, however, remained ever present.

"Greg, head to the gift exchange. Take the gifts we're giving as well," Grissom quickly opened his locker and grabbed a wrapped package that he handed to Greg. "Sara, my office, now. We'll join you at the exchange when we're done, Greg." With that he turned and walked towards his office.

* * *

><p>-3-<p>

Grissom was pacing his office awkwardly when Sara arrived. For a moment they stood, frozen. Too many thoughts and feelings running through their hearts and minds to put a voice to them. Grissom opened and closed his fists at his side, trying to stretch out the tension that was racing through him. Sara fought not to shake from the tension running through her own body.

"Close the door," Grissom whispered when he finally felt he could speak without his voice betraying him.

Sara did as he asked, then walked over to one of the chairs in front of his desk and sat down. _Way to go, get suspended, or worse still, fired, for assaulting a coworker on Christmas Eve._

"I, uh, I…" Grissom looked up at the ceiling, wishing the answers for how to go about this discussion were available for his easy viewing.

"It's okay, I know I was out of line with Greg, I'll, um, clear out my locker…"

"What?"

"Um, isn't that why I'm in here? To be told it's unacceptable, and to suspend or more likely terminate me?" Sara cringed as she spoke, hearing the words aloud made her actions more concrete and real to her.

"No, no! I mean, I'll have to talk with Greg and see if he wants to file paper work on it, but from what I saw he'd grabbed you when you were already in a, uh, an excited state? We all know you're trained in weaponless defense. Really, he should have known better than to grab you to try and restrain you from behind like that. So while I can't say for sure until I speak with him, I doubt he'll want to push for you to be suspended or terminated." Grissom rambled nervously, halting only when he realized Sara was staring at him confused.

"So, why did you want to talk with me, if not about that?"

"Well, what Greg said, about what I'd told him…" Grissom began.

"Yeah, like I believe you'd confide in _Greg_!" Sara laughed.

"I did."

"_WHAT?_" Sara looked at Grissom with wide eyes. _Man, many more shocks like this today, and I don't know if I'll make it to Christmas Day!_

"Sara, I…" a brief grimace touched his face "I owe you so much more honesty. It's not even that I've lied to you; I've just _hidden_ from you. I _didn't_ want our first kiss to be the result of being forced because of mistletoe in front of an audience. I'd like to think it would be something a lot more special, and private."

Sara's jaw dropped. That Grissom had just said those words to her, couldn't be true, yet he now kneeled down in front of her and took her hand.

"Please, I know I don't deserve it after the number of times I've screwed this up, but give me one more chance to get it right?" His eyes held hers and begged her to agree. "Please, Sara, _please_!"

"I…" Sara paused, an idea tickling her mind she continued "I think we should head over to the gift exchange now, Grissom."

Inhaling sharply, his stomach twisted deep in his gut, and a deep burning ache grew in his throat and stole his voice. Nodding and ducking his head to hide the tears that were stinging his eyes suddenly, he released her hand and allowed her to stand up and leave. Only once she had gone did he finally exhale and rise to leave himself

* * *

><p>-4-<p>

"About damn time! What did he want to talk to you about? You're not in trouble are you? I didn't mean to make things worse! Is he mad at you?" Greg ran over to her and whispered nervously to her.

"Greg, I can't answer all those questions at once! More importantly, I'm sorry for how I reacted. He's leaving it up to you, so I guess I should ask _you_ if I'm in trouble?" Sara rubbed Greg's shoulder apologetically.

"Come to my New Year's Eve party and all will be forgiven." Greg smiled and pulled Sara into a big hug. "See how easy I am to please?"

"Yeah, small things amuse small minds, right?" Nick walked over teasing Greg as Grissom entered the room. "Hey, Griss, your gift is over on the table. It's kinda heavy. Here, Sar, I pulled your name. Hope you like your gift."

Smiling at Nick, Sara sat down next to Warrick and began opening her box. She raised a confused eyebrow to Nick when she saw what seemed to be an older looking radio. She could tell it most definitely was at least a couple decades old, so possibly an antique, but a radio?

"It's an older Sangean short wave radio. I know there's a running joke about you and your scanner. I thought since you enjoy listening, maybe you'd enjoy short wave. One of my friends from when I was growing up has been a _huge_ short wave listener, and even operates his own amateur radio broadcast. I mean, I thought it was cool and that you'd like it…" Nick shrugged and smiled.

"I do, Nick! You'll have to tell me your friends broadcast band so I can check it out!" Sara got up and gave him a hug in thanks.

There were a few minutes of quiet as some folks opened their gifts and others looked over what they had received. Softly spoken thanks were heard in the various corners of the break room. Grissom meanwhile sat staring at his wrapped gift, noticing no one had gone up and thanked Sara, he felt another roll of his stomach as he figured out that she had been his secret Santa. _Not only did she essentially turn me down by ignoring my plea for one more chance, now I'm going to have to find a way to get up and thank her for whatever it is she got me. I don't think I even want to open it. Oh, if only all of tonight had been a dream, a horrible nightmare. I could wake up and do it all over again and get it right this time._ As he sat wincing over his thoughts, Greg came over and sat down beside him, quietly watching for a few minutes before actually speaking.

"Does this mean you'll play me?" Greg shifted towards Grissom.

"Pardon?" Grissom shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"You got me a chess set. A _molecular_ chess set. How freakin' cool is _that_? So, will you play me?" Greg smiled, looking between Grissom and the chess set of resin cast molecules.

"Oh," Grissom paused and looked at Greg briefly, then let his gaze wander to Sara, who was watching him and smiling. "Yes, yes, Greg. I most definitely will. How about in the new year, you and I have regularly scheduled games?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, Greg. Really." He smiled at the younger man, who then clapped him on the back and got up to leave.

The break room was emptying out, leaving only Grissom sitting at the table and Sara sitting on the couch, watching one another. Grissom sat there feeling as though he had finally made that last fatal mistake that was going to cost him Sara. While Sara sat there watching him, waiting for him to proceed.

"Are you going to open it?" She spoke once the break room had emptied completely.

"I don't know if I can. I, I've ruined everything. How can I open this now, knowing it will be the one and only thing I'll ever receive from you? I open it now, Christ, and then all my hope is gone with it. If I save it, and put off opening it indefinitely, maybe I can still hold onto hope. Even if only in my head." He sighed, the weight of his fears put into words. Paling he looked up and met Sara's eyes as he realized he really _wasn't_ hiding from her anymore. _But am I making it worse now? I kept everything in when she wanted to hear it, and now that she's walked away from me when I asked for one last chance, I can't seem to keep my mouth shut._ He slumped forward with his head in his hands on the table in defeat.

"Or, you could open it and see. Remember, the cat is both dead and alive while it's _in_ the box. You have to open it to find out which one it really is." Sara sat down at the chair next to him, and watched as the meaning of her words sunk through to him.

Tentatively his hands reached out and unwrapped the gift. His fingers trailed the spine of a large text, and his head titled while the trace of a smile began to touch his face. "_Pauling's Legacy_" he read from the cover, turning to look at her, "A quantum physics and chemistry text?"

"Well, you've given me texts before on entomology. I figured what better gift than sharing my knowledge?" She smiled at him. "Besides, I know biologists; you guys tend to avoid this stuff in school like it's what causes the plague!"

Smirking at her, Grissom nodded, "Well, most physics students run in horror from the squishy sciences. But you've never been typical. At least, not to me. So, about that cat…"

"He's injured, but he'll make a full recovery and live a long life, with the proper care."

"I'm a biologist, Sara," Grissom winked, "with exactly the right type of care, I know it's possible to make that cat immortal, I just might need some help with figuring out how to."

"I'm sure I could spare some time to help you out with that." Sara looked at Grissom and watched as his eyes sparkled. Reaching her hand out to him, palm up, she felt for that the first time since she pulled his name out of that box everything was just right, as he slid his hand into hers.

* * *

><p><strong>Author Post Note<strong>: The random gifts they received actually do exist... and I want that chess set! I also highly doubt Sara would have _actually_ bought that text. Currently it's out of print (for how long I don't know), but eBook versions cost close to $400, and the only hard copies I stumbled across in my search were between $3-5000... which is a little out of the range of typical Secret Santa exchanges LOL!

If you're interested in the various songs I referenced, all of them are artists that are fairly well known (at least in Canada). So you should be able to find their websites easily and check out their music if you like (which I highly recommend). If you're interested, but having trouble, shoot me a message and I'll direct you to them.

So this is where this story ends. Where they go from here, who knows. Maybe Grissom accidentally kills the cat with his experiments to find how to make it immortal... or maybe the cat lives forever. As far as you guys are concerned - that cat is in the damn box again ::winks::

And that is all folks! Thanks for playing! = D


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